Ramona Snart hated the word "hero". She especially hated it when it was applied to her, the way Barry Allen liked to say it. She wasn't a hero, and she knew it. She was just someone with a rough background and a hunger for change—and the ability to bring it about. No one else seemed to agree, though.

Just ask her best friend Daria—she continuously insisted that Mona was a hero, that she deserved the praise the newspapers gave her and the admiration of people she didn't even know. She saw Mona as someone greater, someone who could change the world.

Mona wasn't one for world changing, honestly, but she liked helping people. She couldn't stand by while others got hurt, her deepest instincts pushed against it. Her desire to help was why she asked Cisco to make her a cold gun, so she could undo all the bad in the world, stop people from killing and hurting innocents.

And of course, all that was why her cold gun was currently finding its way into the head of a mannequin. Not exactly what it was designed for, but surprisingly effective. She spun around, firing a blast of freezing energy at one across the room. It crystalised immediately, and Ramona whipped to the left, bashing yet another. It fell to the ground, and Mona shook her hair out of her eyes. "That's the last of them," she said. "Let's not do this for another three days at least."

Cisco's laugh echoed in her ear, making Mona smile. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he said. "Come on, let's see how the poor gun took all that abuse."

Mona rolled her eyes, but holstered the gun. It rested against her leg, still cool from the energy that flowed through it. "Right," she said, "be there in a minute."

She turned to leave the room, raising a hand to switch off her communicator, but stopped before she took more than a step. She wasn't alone. In front of her stood a man, dressed in a tan trench coat, with a beard and sandy hair. He stood with his hands in his coat pockets, looking up at her. "Ah, hello," he said when he saw her looking. He had a British accent, which made the situation even weirder. "Sorry, don't mind the interruption, but I've come to speak to you."

"I'm sorry, what?" Mona said, taking a step forward. Her hand moved back to the handle of her cold gun, but before she could pull it out, the man raised one of his hands, and all she saw was bright light.

—

The first thing Mona felt when she woke was a pounding headache.

She raised one hand, eyes still closed, and rubbed her forehead. "Oww..." she murmured, "what the hell?"

She pushed herself partway up with her other hand. The ground beneath her was kind of gravelly, which was not going to be fun to get out of her hair later. She heard other people moving around her, and as she blinked open her eyes a pretty blonde woman beside her said, "My thoughts exactly."

Mona barely spared a glance for her, too busy trying to figure out where on earth that crazy Englishman brought her. It was the dead of night. Straight ahead, Mona had a great view of the city skyline - but not from the ground. Oh no, this view was from a rooftop.

Ramona's jaw dropped, and stayed that way, her head turning instinctually as, from her left, a familiar voice drawled, "Stein? What are you doing here?"

Mona flopped back down, groaning again. Great, just great, her father was here. Looking grumpy as ever from what she saw, and with his partner in crime Mick Rory by his side. She could scream, and almost did before the blonde nudged her as she pushed herself up.

"Where are we?" The blonde asked, looking around.

Closing her eyes in the delusional hope that all this would go away if she just ignored it, Mona sat up again too. On her other side, her right, some guy she couldn't see said, "Why don't you ask the dude who knocked us out and kidnapped us?" in answer to the blonde's question. "British dude with a flashy thing. Ring any bells?"

"Sadly, yeah," Ramona muttered, offering the blonde woman a hand up as she stood. The other woman didn't take it, and Mona shrugged, instead moving to check her cold gun. It was still there, thank god. She might need it in order to get off this roof.

"The name's Rip Hunter," a voice called out. Mona turned to see the British trench-coat wearing guy stalking towards them. "I'm from East London." He paused, surveying the group of them. "Oh, and the future."

Mick growled from the back of the group. "Nice to meet you, Rip," he said. From the noise, Ramona guessed he was reaching for his fire gun.

Her guess was proven right when weirdo-Hunter said, "Uh, while you were incapacitated, I may have tampered with your weapons."

"You what?" Mona demanded. She immediately pulled her gun from her belt, examining it. Infuriatingly, the crazy kidnapping Brit was right. She raised her head and glared at him.

"Don't worry, it can be fixed," he told her, giving a small, self-satisfied smile. "Now, I've assembled you all because I need your help. The future of the world is in peril because of a man by the name of Vandal Savage."

Mona couldn't help it: she snorted. These guys, saving the world? She didn't know most of them, and the ones she did know wouldn't save the world unless there was a great deal of money involved. And they would probably demand payment up front and then fuck off to who knows where. Not that Ramona could save the world either.

One of the others, a man in a weird hawk-like outfit, frowned. "That can't be," he said, "we destroyed him."

"Yeah, the Green Arrow and Flash helped us do it," the woman beside him, an absolutely gorgeous woman with curly hair and a similar outfit to his, agreed.

"And therein lay the problem," Hunter said, pointing at the two of them. Mona blinked at his language; she mostly heard that kind of talk in novels. "Unless you or Mr. Hall deliver the death blow, Savage can be restored from but a single cell." That did seem like a problem.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Mick growled from behind, obviously confused.

Mr. Hall, as Hunter called him, turned to look at the pyromaniac. "Vandal is immortal. Kendra and I-" Kendra must be the woman "-reincarnate."

The blonde beside Mona snorted. "Yeah I've done that."

Mona stared at her. "You've reincarnated?" she asked, shaking her head. "When did this world stop making sense?"

"It's a little bit late to ask that, Mona," her father drawled. She refused to look at him. Honestly, she'd been hoping he hadn't recognized her. Apparently, hope wasn't a factor in her world anymore.

"And what the hell does this Randall guy got to do with us?" Mick demanded, dragging the group back onto something resembling a track.

Sighing, Hunter stalked closer to the loose line of people. "Vandal," he corrected. "In the future, he will employ the evil he's perfected over his long life and the power he has amassed throughout history to finally conquer the world. I've been tasked with assembling an elite team to stop him."

Mona's eyebrows shot up into her forehead. This was what he considered to be an "elite team"? They were a couple of criminals, some b-rate heroes she'd never even heard of, and herself: a girl who couldn't even get past the fact that her dad was one of said criminals and fought crime solely to be better than him. Yeah, a great team.

The blonde seemed to be on the same page as Mona, exchanging a glance with her as she asked, "How?"

Rip looked far too smug as he said, "To travel through time. To capture Savage before he grows into the monster he becomes."

"You got the wrong guy," Mona's dad said, "Hero ain't on my resume." He patted Rip's shoulder as he moved past, one hand on his gun. He didn't look at Ramona.

"Or mine," Mick agreed, following behind him. Not a surprise: Mick followed him everywhere.

"I know it's difficult for you to fathom," Rip started, moving to stop the two men, "but where...when I'm from, the year 2166, you and everyone on this roof aren't just considered heroes... You're legends."

—

1440 words.

Welcome to Frozen! I hope y'all are enjoying Ramona so far, she's so much fun to write. As you can see, she inherited some of that Snart snark, and knows how to use it!

Let me know what you think, I love it when people comment!

💛Ema